Charmed
by Starpiper
Summary: Everyone knows the story of ball and the cinders girl, but what might the prince have been thinking? Cinderella with a slight twist.


_Author's Note:_ This is just a little something I wrote in my Creative Writing class. I was strapped for ideas for our weekly creative response, so, lo and behold, I turn to the retelling of fairy tales. By the way, the Prince Charles/Charlie thing was just a coincidence, not me trying to be funny about the British royals.

_Warnings:_ It's not too terrible, but there's some profanity and here be slash. So, if cursing makes you blush or the thought of a male/male relationship squicks you out…well, this might not be your cup of tea, then.

_**Charmed**_

"Presenting her ladyship, Lady Anabellelisa d'Bonnelys!"

I am never, **never** forgiving Mum and the old man for this. They've done some pretty ridiculous shit to me in the past, all in the name of "for your own good" (taking sword lessons every day for twelve years of my childhood with Weaponsmaster Rodigo, that miserable little sadist, comes to mind), but this is beyond the pale.

"Presenting her ladyship, Countess Orchidae of Palamier fief!"

They're actually holding a _ball_ to try and get me _married_. And to add insult to injury, they want their future daughter-in-law to be named something idiotic like Orchidae or Anabellelisa.

It's sad how this makes that bastard Rodigo look good by comparison.

"Presenting her ladyship, Lady Madeline Aubrugine!"

Okay, maybe, _maybe_ that one isn't _too_ bad. I suppose I should be grateful that she's got a normal sounding name and doesn't look as if she's got a stick up her behind, unlike the last fifty...fifty-seven? Fifty-nine? Whatever. She looks sensible and she has a nice smile, so I guess I should be grateful.

Except...I can see Shasta standing with the other guard by the door. He's looking crisp and sharp in his Guard uniform (as compared to rumpled and sultry in his sleeping britches last night, I think to myself) and, when he meets my eye, he smiles in sympathy. My heart tugs a little because, nice as her smile is, Lady Madeline has got nothing on Shas-

"Charles, darling, do you see anyone...special?"

Damn, Mum!

"I'm afraid not, Mother," I respond politely, trying to recollect myself. "I'm sure that I will, though. They all seem like such lovely, refined ladies."

Like hell they are. I just saw a pair of overly made-up sisters discreetly elbow a thin, consumptive-looking girl in the ribs and shove their way a little further up the line.

"Presenting her ladyship, Baroness Elisovarina of the Channdry barony!"

Good grief.

"You would do well to start picking out a few by the end of the night, boy," my old man mutters grumpily. He casts a suspicious look at me out of the corner of his eye. "We wonder about you sometimes. You're eighteen and always with those books and drawing pads and unintelligible calculations and that damnable guitar all the day long..."

"Of course, Father."

Feh. You _should_ be worried, probably. And was he actually using the royal "we" in conversation? Gods help me...

"Presenting their ladyships, Lady Gwendolina and Lady Dorienne Dufaire!"

The two sisters have somehow managed to claw their way to the head of the line and are now curtsying like it's going out of style, batting their eyelashes in a way that's less seductive and more indicative of a serious eye infection.

If the gods are truly good, then now's their chance to prove it. Please let one of them, _any_ one of them, go a little crazy with the lightening-bolt stash and let one loose down here. I've even got a metal circlet that will help things along nicely...

My younger brother, Adair, glances at me and rolls his large blue-gray eyes expressively, straightening up quickly when he sees Mum looking in his direction. Poor kid. He might only be fourteen now, but I bet he's thinking that this is the kind of crap that Mum and Dad have in store for him in another four or five years.

Sad part is, he's probably not too far off the mark...

"I beg your pardon? Oh my...I say, this is _most_ irregular..."

I blink and turn back to see the receiving line. The old announcer, Venner, is sounding flustered and confused, and that has my curiousity piqued more than anything else this evening.

Venner is talking to Shasta, who has a girl standing patiently behind him. Probably some Jenny-come-lately whose carriage wheel broke along the way. As the two men talk it out, the girl turns to look at me and, to my surprise, winks cheerfully. She isn't as painted and primped in the latest styles like the rest of the crowd is, but her strawberry-gold hair is pinned up becomingly with a lily pin, her pale green ball gown tasteful in its simplicity. Her only extravagance seems to be a pair of shoes that look, weirdly enough, like they're made of glass. She sees me looking at them and grins, sticking one foot out and twirling it a little. "Funny things, aren't they?" she asks brightly, either completely oblivious to the shocked stares of everyone in the room, or just not caring in the first place.

"Sure are," I say, adding a new dimension of horror to my parents' shock (and delight to my brother's) by slipping and talking like a commoner.

"Very well, then, very well." Venner finally finishes with Shasta, walking towards the girl with a huff. "I don't abide by this, I really don't. It's just irregular" he mutters under his breath, just loud enough for the four of us sitting on the dais to hear. Aloud, he booms, "Presenting her ladyship, Lady Ellanora Dufaire!"

I only dimly register that the two over-painted, shoving harridans from earlier are gaping in shock, the older woman standing with them purpling with anger, because I'm too busy reading Shasta's lips. "I like her, Charlie," he mouths quickly. "You should have heard what she called your father!"

Lady Ellanora bows, rather than curtsying as tradition would demand, and pipes up sunnily. "You can call me Ella, however. _Cinders Ella_, even, if you should want," she adds, smirking and glancing at the three women staring angrily at her in the corner, again ignoring the injured sensibilities of my parents.

I stand up for her and bow in return. "Charmed."

Gender aside, I like this one.

The End?


End file.
